"Please tell me you're not a hallucination."

Blaine's face is stunned, his eyes huge and staring. Everything seems soft and fuzzy around the edges and it takes Kurt a second to realize that it's because his own eyes are wet, overfilling. He tries to laugh, but it comes out choked.

"I'm not a hallucination."

A hand on his shoulder – gentle, hesitant, and then he's enveloped in a hug, wrapped up tight in the arms he thought about every night when a warm bed and a roof over their heads was too much to hope for. It feels like the safest place in the world, like he's anchored at last after floating aimlessly for so many dark months.

Blaine is warm and solid against him, and he smells like a different cologne now but he still feels like home. His head is on Kurt's shoulder and wow, he's taller than Blaine now, has it really been that long? He knows he's been through a few growth spurts, of course, his own limited wardrobe made it hard to miss, but this is the first time it really computes on a deeper, more practical level. They parted as boys; they're adults now. They've both grown and changed – separately, in different ways.

There are voices coming from down the corridor, young and bright. Someone whistles at them and Kurt startles into reality: they are still holding onto each other in the doorway.

"Maybe we should get inside."

Blaine pulls away as if waking from a dream – blinking slowly, long lashes over his beautiful eyes, but then the spell breaks and he takes Kurt's hand and steps back into the room, the door shutting behind them, and there they are. In Blaine's room, alone, taking each other in with wide, stunned eyes.

Kurt blinks away unwanted tears.

"Hey."

"Hey. God, you're alive." Blaine's voice is full of wonder.

"You didn't get my letter?" There's a moment of panic because what if? It was just a regular letter, what if it didn't get there? What if it got lost in the mail? These things happen, he didn't even think... Did Blaine have to live a year and a half grieving their deaths?

"No, I did. But it was so long ago, Kurt. Anything could have happened, I didn't know... I thought I'd never see you again."

His voice breaks and it aches because Kurt knew they had hurt him, rationally he knew and the torment of imagining what Blaine had to be going through was what pushed him into taking the risk, sending that one and only note. He's lost count of how many times he had to stop himself from contacting Blaine again while they were still running.

But knowing was one thing. Actually seeing the signs of too much worry and too little smile in Blaine's eyes and the lines of his face is what really drives it home.

"I'm sorry. I wanted to write to you again, but it was too risky, even that one letter was too much. Rachel threw such a fit when she learned, and she was right but–"

Blaine shakes his head and smiles, the shadow of all those months disappearing as quickly as it came. "Where's Rachel? She didn't come with you?"

"No, she wanted me to see you alone first. She's home now."

"Home?"

"Oh, Bushwick. We live in Bushwick."

Blaine's eyes grow wider. "As in, here in New York? Kurt... you live in New York? When did you move here?"

Uh-oh.

"Um. In June."

Blaine shakes his head, confused. "You... you've been here since June and you only found me now?"

Long ago, Kurt promised himself a few things. One of them was that he'd find his way back to Blaine if it killed him, if only to apologize. Another was that when he did, he would never, ever lie to him or keep secrets again.

"I– No. I've known since you moved here. I've watched your social media, I just– I didn't–"

He can't look Blaine in the eye, but the incredulity and hurt in Blaine's voice rings loud and clear.

"Wait, so you could have come here three months ago, when I was so lonely and everything hurt because last time I'd been in New York it was with you, and you just didn't bother?"

Kurt wants to disappear. He's been selfish. He's been so focused on his fear and his worry and his uncertainty that he lost sight of what Blaine might feel. Suddenly shaky, he curls into himself, sitting down on the nearest available surface, which turns out to be an edge of a neatly made bed. Eyes set down, he whispers, "I'm sorry."

There are a few heartbeats of silence that feel like an age, and then a warm hand touches his. Blaine is kneeling in front of him, his expression apologetic even though his voice is still breaking.

"No, I am sorry. I'm sure you had your reasons, I have no right to expect anything from you."

"I was just... afraid." Kurt admits, his eyes stinging again. He won't cry, he won't, he doesn't cry anymore. "I wanted to contact you every day, and every day I told myself, not yet because..."

"Because?"

"Because I wasn't sure you wanted to have anything to do with me, with us, after what we'd done. And it would be too much to actually know that you didn't."

"Kurt, look at me." Blaine's voice is soft, and so is his face, soft and sad, but so very earnest. "I really, really do. I won't say it didn't hurt, because it was the hardest, most painful thing I've ever lived through, but I've never stopped hoping I'd get to see you again. Well, at least after I knew you didn't... didn't die. And sure, I'd like to know what happened and why, but even if you never tell me, I want you back in my life. I'm not going to let you disappear again."

"Oh, I will tell you, I promise." It's so much easier to breathe already, the weight of fear that's been pressing heavily on Kurt's chest for months gone, and he's just so grateful. "We'll tell you the whole story if you let us. It's a long one, though, much too long for just one evening, so maybe another day? Or days, really, I think, this will take hours. But I want you to know us, Blaine – really know us, now that we can finally share all of this."

"I'd love that." Blaine's smile is radiant, and quite possibly Kurt's favorite thing in the whole universe.

"So let's start with..." Kurt reaches out with his right hand and Blaine takes it, arching his eyebrows. "Hi, my name is Kurt Hummel and I'm eighteen. I live in Bushwick with Rachel Berry, who is a royal pain in the butt and my step-sister, although in the eyes of the law we're not really related. Oh, and I'm gay."

Blaine just takes him in for a moment, understanding blooming in his wide, surprised eyes, and then squeezes Kurt's hand tighter.

"Hi, Kurt. It's nice to meet you."

"So what have you two been up to since you arrived in New York?"

They are both calmer now, the adrenaline and emotions are down and it's easier to actually talk. They've settled more comfortably – Kurt cross-legged on the bed with his coat and shoes off, Blaine in a computer chair opposite him – and neither of them can stop staring at the other. Kurt smiles at the genuine curiosity in Blaine's voice.

"Well, we spent some time settling in – making the apartment we found habitable, getting documents we needed for work. We changed our names back to what they were before, too."

"You mean–"

Kurt shrugs. "Kurt Hummel. Rachel Berry. Hummelberry. That's what our parents changed them to after they... um. Committed to each other. To symbolize the joining of families. We undid it now, since we wanted to be separate people again."

"Won't your parents know you did that? Do they even know you're–" Blaine pauses and bites his lip. "No, I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry."

Kurt shakes his head. "It's okay, you can ask whatever you want. No, we didn't contact them so they don't know we're alive, and we're going to keep it that way for now. Getting to our records was a risk – there might be people looking for us since there were no bodies – but we really needed SSN cards, at least, and IDs. We decided that getting our school transcripts was too dangerous, though. McKinley was bound to alert our parents that someone wanted to pull our records when we're presumed dead. So no high school diplomas for us, even though we wanted to go back and graduate." He pauses and scowls. "Well, at least I wanted. Rachel decided to put her education on hold and pursue an acting career instead."

Blaine arches his eyebrows, surprised. "Really? That's a bold move. How is it going?"

Kurt sighs. "A whole lot of auditions, one callback, no roles. She tries to be tough, but frankly, it turns out there are a lot of hopeful, talented actresses in this city. It's not exactly what she hoped for."

"Is it what you hoped for? New York?" Blaine's smile is like a ray of sunshine. Kurt kind of wants to curl up in its warmth and bask.

"If you mean freedom to be myself and have my own plans and dreams, then yes. If you mean working my ass off at two, sometimes three jobs, and then sewing at night, just to be able to support us, then... I expected it. It's draining sometimes, but that's fine. I'm in New York, I will earn my place here."

"Doesn't Rachel work?"

"Not right now, no." Kurt shrugs at Blaine's frown. "I made her a promise once, when life on the run became too much for her and she was ready to give up. I promised her that if we moved to New York, I would give her a year to let her pursue her dreams, and I'll support us by myself. I'm keeping that promise. We manage, and once she gets a role, even just a small one, it should get easier."

Frankly, they barely manage. Life in New York isn't cheap – rent and bills and MetroCards, sometimes buying the most basic groceries is a stretch. But he can handle it. He's young, he's strong and he's living in his dream city. He can handle anything. And now there's Blaine, too. Why would he ever complain?

"And you live in Bushwick." Blaine shakes his head, still incredulous, and Kurt laughs, a sudden, bright explosion of joy.

"And we live in Bushwick, yes. We rent a whole loft at a ridiculously low price. I mean, no wonder really, it was a mess when we moved in, completely bare and half-devastated. We fixed it up, furnished it over the months with flee market finds and such." Actually, some of it was plain dumpster diving, but he's too embarrassed to say it out loud, so he just shrugs. "It's not ideal – it still needs a lot of paint, the locks could probably be broken by a determined child and the drafts are more noticeable the colder it gets, but it's home. You'll just have to imagine the future stylishness of it when you–" Kurt bites his tongue. He's getting ahead of himself as usual. "Um. I mean, if you ever decide to visit us."

"I'd love to!" Blaine beams at him, as if he was just offered a visit at a palace. "I mean, if you want me to? You're not just dropping by to tell me you're here, are you? I'll be able to see you regularly now, right?"

Kurt just nods, momentarily overwhelmed with this prospect.

They are quiet for a bit, just grinning at each other until Kurt yawns widely, adrenaline finally giving way to exhaustion. He laughs, self-conscious.

"Sorry, it was a long day. Anyway, how's your brother? I saw he had an accident."

Blaine rolls his eyes fondly. "He's fine, just some bruised ribs and a sprained ankle, but he should never be allowed near horses again. That idiot put expert horse-riding in his resume when the only time he sat on a horse was a pony once when he was a kid. He says every actor does that, but– Oh, hey, so you really read my updates." He grins.

Kurt feels himself blush. "Well I looked you up one day when I was in a library doing research. It's not my fault your Facebook is pretty much public."

"Just my Facebook?" Blaine teases with a smile, and Kurt sticks out his tongue at him, suddenly feeling young and silly, an almost forgotten state.

"Okay, your twitter, too. But I only look when I can get access to a computer. I'm not a stalker."

"I bet all stalkers say that." Blaine chuckles and Kurt joins him before another yawn interrupts. It's really getting out of control. He stretches and sighs.

"Sorry. I should probably go, it's getting late."

"Do you have to? It's barely ten." Blaine asks, his tone pleading. Kurt really can't get himself to tell him that he's been up since four thirty today, working in the bakery and then the coffee house. Or that it will take him over an hour to get home where he still has to finish dyeing the rainbow tutu someone ordered from him before he can even think about sleep. "Can I get you some coffee? We could catch up some more before you go. I really want to know what happened with the two of you in the last year and a half."

Kurt hesitates for a moment before nodding. He's going to tell Blaine all of it anyway. He can as well start with that, tonight.

"Okay. But I have to leave in an hour. I work tomorrow." And the next day, and the next. He hasn't had a free day in weeks.

"I swear I won't keep you longer than eleven. Do you still take your coffee like you used to?" Blaine is bouncing a little in his chair, excited. Kurt can't help but smile.

"Anything with caffeine is fine." Really, he survived months of the cheapest instant slush before he started at Starbucks, and the vile stuff at truck stops and in motels before that. He had even gone weeks without coffee at all. He can stomach anything.

"Girls down the hall have a latte machine, just give me a few minutes and I'll be back."

Before Kurt has time to protest and tell him not to go to so much trouble, Blaine has already grabbed a clean cup from a shelf and swept out the door.

Kurt's alone, so he takes his time to actually flail a little because, well, Blaine. Then he settles comfortably against the headboard to wait – not lying down, because that would be creepy and way too forward, just... leaning a bit against the big fluffy pillows that feel softer than anything Kurt remembers. It's been a long day and his body is heavy with exhaustion. It's so good to just stretch hi legs out a bit, just for a minute, just... just–

xXxXx

Kurt's asleep when Blaine returns to the room, passed out half-upright on Blaine's bed, a picture that makes something in Blaine's chest flutter and expand. He puts the cup of coffee on his desk and just looks, takes his time watching without worry about being creepy.

The Kurt that Blaine remembers was all soft features and elaborate clothes that pulled focus. Gorgeous, but clearly so very young. The boy in front of Blaine now is taller and more muscular, his frame well-defined in the jeans and simple black henley he's wearing. His face is thinner, more angular like the rest of him, and he's just so damn handsome. An irresistible man, not just a beautiful boy anymore.

He looks tired, too, now that Blaine looks carefully – too pale, with dark circles around his eyes, and Blaine can't bring himself to wake him up. He sits down and sips the latte he brought, and watches, just watches. There's a void in him somewhere, a constantly aching space where all of their time together this past year and a half should have been, and now it feels like it may begin to heal at last. Watching Kurt sleep is like a balm on the frayed, raw nerves of that wound.

But as time ticks away and Kurt shows no signs of waking up – he only stirs once to settle more comfortably against Blaine's pillows – the responsible part of Blaine's brain begins to wonder what to do. Kurt said he has to work in the morning, and Blaine has no idea how early he needs to be there, or where exactly, or anything, really. But rousing Kurt from his peaceful sleep and sending him away into the cold, rainy night seems cruel.

A beep from Kurt's coat pocket interrupts Blaine's conflicted thoughts and since Kurt doesn't react at all, Blaine reaches for the phone after a moment of hesitation. It's a simple, cheap model, and it's alight with an incoming message, with Rachel's name on it. Feeling slightly guilty, Blaine opens it.

Rachel: How is it going? Are you coming home soon?

With one more glance at Kurt, Blaine makes a decision.

Kurt: Hey Rachel, it's Blaine. Kurt fell asleep, should I wake him up and send him home?

The answer comes within seconds.

Rachel: Blaine!!! Hi!!!!! :DDD

It makes Blaine grin widely – he can almost hear Rachel through this text, and instantly he misses her even more, her bubbly, bouncy personality and her enthusiastic hugs. The next text comes a moment later.

Rachel: No, let him sleep if you can, he's exhausted and he doesn't have work until noon tomorrow. (What have you two been doing, huh? ;D)

He smiles and taps out the reply.

Kurt: He can sleep here, there's enough room. (And we've been talking, I don't know what you're implying :P) Can't wait to see you again! Goodnight!

She replies with a smiley and a goodnight, and that's it.

Kurt is officially staying the night.

Blaine's roommate is luckily away for a week due to yet another girlfriend emergency back at home, so sleeping arrangements are not a problem. Blaine pulls out a spare blanket and covers Kurt gently, barely refraining from placing a tender kiss on his forehead, then sits down at his desk to start on an essay he needs to get done this weekend. But his focus is predictably shaky. He spends more time looking at Kurt than his computer screen, and eventually he decides it just won't happen. After a quick trip to the bathroom to brush his teeth and change into his PJs, Blaine turns off the lights and slides under the covers in his roommate's bed.

Sleep doesn't come easily, though. Every time he manages to drift off for a moment, he wakes up with a start, his heart pounding, certain that he dreamed this whole evening, that it can't be true. And every time, Kurt's sleeping form barely a few feet from him shocks him anew, waking up the happy butterflies in his stomach and staving off sleep again.

Finally, well before the night sky begins to blush with the first light of dawn, Blaine gives up on sleep entirely. He just lies there, watching the dark outline of the boy he's loved for so long, even when there was barely any hope left. He watches, and thinks, and feels everything at once, and then, slowly, as light fills the room, he processes all the emotions separately, one by one, lets himself feel them, open and accepting and finally ready.

Because this is just the beginning. He's waited so long, and now the waiting is done. The miracle has happened, Kurt's here. They have another chance.

Now what?

xXxXx

Kurt wakes up groggy and disoriented. His alarm isn't blaring, but Rachel isn't singing, either, as she tends to do on those days when he can sleep a little longer and wake up to her voice and the smell of coffee. Light is streaming into the room, filtering pink through his eyelids, and Kurt sits up quickly, suddenly panicked. There's never bright light like this in his room, not with the window painted over.

Of course, this isn't his room. The moment Kurt opens his eyes, the events of last night – god, it was last night, he fell asleep! – rush back, making his heart race in an anxious staccato. The gasp of shock quickly dies on his lips though because the first thing he sees is Blaine's smile.

Blaine is sitting in his desk chair again and Kurt has a weird sense of déjà vu for a second before he notices the differences in Blaine's clothing. Calmer now, but increasingly embarrassed, he smiles and clears his throat.

"I hope you didn't have to sleep in that chair because of me? It doesn't look very comfortable." He can already feel himself blush. Nice way to enter someone's life after a long time – come and crash on their bed in the middle of a conversation.

But Blaine laughs brightly. "No, don't worry. My roommate's not here right now. I slept in his bed."

"Why didn't you wake me? What time is it, anyway?"

Judging by the light and how he feels, it's late. Oh shit. Rachel must be worried sick. Kurt looks around for his coat; his phone must have been ringing half the night, how did he not hear it? Is the battery dead again?

Just then, Blaine passes him the device.

"It's barely after seven, and Rachel said I should let you sleep, so I did."

Kurt's eyes widen. "I slept for nine hours?" He doesn't remember when he last had a chance to get more than six hours of sleep. Not since they left home, that's for certain. And six is a luxury.

Then the rest of Blaine's words register and his jaw drops. "You spoke to Rachel?"

Blaine blushes and dips his head a little. "No, she texted and– I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't have, but you slept through it and I wasn't sure what to do, so I took your phone out. I saw her name, so... I read it and texted her back. She seems to believe you fell asleep because we um, did something last night." Blaine's blush deepens even as he grins, and Kurt quickly scrolls through their exchange from last night. He shakes his head.

"Of course she would. God, I'm so sorry, Blaine. For coming here unannounced, and passing out like this, and for her assumptions and just... I'm sorry. It wasn't at all how I planned our reunion. There was supposed to be flowers and some grand thoughtful gesture as an apology, and giving you time to get used to the idea that we're here, and instead... this. I'm sorry."

He disentangles himself from the plushy red blanket that kept him so deliciously warm all night, but before he can stand up and find an excuse to flee, Blaine takes his hand.

"Please don't be sorry. You're here. Nothing could be better than this. And I got to open my eyes and see that it wasn't just a dream, which was really great because I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have believed it otherwise. As for Rachel's assumptions... well, it's Rachel, right?" They both chuckle fondly at this, sharing an understanding look, before Blaine's face grows more serious, his hand tightening around Kurt's before letting go. "And the last time she saw us together it would have been a fair assumption, wouldn't it?"

Now it's Kurt's time to blush and look down at his knees. "Well, yeah, but–" Oh, he's so not ready for this conversation.

"Kurt, please look at me?"

Looking into Blaine's eyes right now is not easy, especially when they're intent like this – and so sad. Here it comes, then. It's fine, it's fine, it will be fine–

"Kurt, I've been thinking and... I know what we were before, and it made me really happy to be with you, but–"

Kurt steels himself for the blow. What will it be? A girlfriend? Mistakes of youth? Teenage experiments? He'd heard all variations of these excuses in his nightmares.

Blaine bites his lip, clearly nervous, but determined.

"But we had virtually no contact for a year and a half. And I've missed you like crazy and I've dreamed of the day I would get to see you again, but... I feel like I barely know you after all this time. So for now, can we just... spend some time together, as friends? Just, talk and catch up, get to know each other all over again because we finally can, and... There's no rush now, is there?"

The tightness in Kurt's throat won't go away even though he tells himself it's good, it's so much, friends. He pushes through it, his words coming out thin and choked.

"No, of course not. And you're right, it's been so long. So... friends. Just friends, and we'll talk, there's so much we need to talk about, and– Blaine."

He's crying – they're both crying a little, crying and sniffing and laughing through the tears because they're here at last, finally here, next to each other, and then Blaine pulls him into a hug and yes, it was worth it. Every moment of struggle, every hardship, every bit of strength it took to get here.

It was worth it.

When Kurt leaves the dorms half an hour later, there's a new bounce in his step and a happy song in his heart. He had politely refused Blaine's offer of breakfast – he needs to get home and finish the neglected dyeing before going to work – but they exchanged phone numbers and e-mail addresses. He even gave Blaine their home address for good measure, and Blaine asked if he could call Kurt tonight, just to talk a little before bed and maybe set up the next time they can meet, and there will be more time with Blaine, and–

Oh, life is wonderful.

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Chapter art: The safest place in the world

Chapter song: Lovesong – Adele

The next chapter will be posted on Saturday 21 September.